


Let Me Re-Introduce Myself

by mightyfinebear



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: F/F, F/M, Manstead - Freeform, Multi, Rheese - Freeform, all your feels are here but not that nonsense from canon, and yes a lot of sex, assertive full of secrets april, bad -boy grey ethan, confident sexy bi-sexual sarah, drunken daniel, head bitch in charge sharon, poor reformed bad boy connor, reesker, reethan, rothan, sexteride, this is rich douchebag will, this is the dark med with laughs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightyfinebear/pseuds/mightyfinebear
Summary: A re-working of the Chicago Med that could've been; come with me as I re-introduce your favorite characters before some shitty test-audience got a hold of them and destroyed all that could've been, especially if the show was rated mature.
Relationships: Ava Bekker/Sarah Reese, Ethan Choi/ Robin Charles, Ethan Choi/Sarah Reese, Jay Halstead/April Sexton, Jeffrey Manning/Natalie Manning, Kelly Severide/April Sexton, Sarah Reese/ Connor Bradshaw, Will Halstead/Natalie Manning
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26





	1. Will: Lunch Or Breakfast?

“Uh...who was that?” He asks as he stares her up and down.

The platinum blonde had just passed Jay on her way out to the hallway. Will just grins like the cat who ate the canary.

“Just a little fun.”

Jay would pass judgement if this was a shock, given Will’s decision, but Will is still Will. No one changes overnight.

“I hope you wrapped it up this time, you ready to go?” Jay asked.

“Oh yeah, uh-no, I can’t, I have a meeting with the head of the hospital about taking this job.”

Jay’s shoulders slumped; his little brother isn’t making eye contact. He hates going to brunch alone.

“C’mon man, when you’re not there I have to deal with being dad’s punching bag.”

“Duty calls,” Will answered with another shit-eating grin.

Jay narrowed his eyes.

“You’re stalling, you still haven’t told dad about Stacy?”

Will groans. He was waiting to make a decision himself. He had more than enough money to support her financially, but he hadn’t decided if he was going to be involved in the baby’s life. He also knew exactly what his father would say. 

Offer to pay for an abortion, harrass her with proof the baby was even his to begin with. Or give her a one lump sum to not have the child carry the Halstead name; the shame, the scandal. Will didn’t know what he wanted to do. Stacy didn’t seem like the gold-digging type. She had no idea who he was when they met at a bar after a baseball game. She was DTF, and hot and that’s all that mattered; it’s all that ever matters. Four months later she found him through Facebook and sent a message. He left her on read until a court order was threatened. That’s when he came home; back to Chicago.

“I’m going to tell him...just not today,” he answered giving Jay a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“I’m sure when you do you I won’t be the punching bag for long.”

“Thanks for the pep talk Jay!”

The door swung closed and Will began looking for his briefcase and jacket.

...

Gaffney is a nice hospital, especially since the remodel but Will has worked at nicer places, there’s a grim finality to the shiny mediocrity of this building. It’s one of the reasons he didn’t know whether to stay or not. But wait, hello to the hottie at the front desk, she might be a reason.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

It takes him a tick to answer, he’s caught up in her olive skin, thick shiny brown hair, full lips, and bittersweet brown eyes. She’s not his usual type. Normally blondes catch his attention, tight bodies; Stacy.

“I have a 9:00 with the Chief Administrator, Sharon Goodwin, but maybe after we can get some lunch-or breakfast?”

That cheshire-style grin is back but it does nothing for the beauty behind the desk. She rolls her eyes before April walks up.

“Thanks for watching the desk Nat,” she says to the brunette, “I’ll send Sharon’s secretary the message.”

“April.”

He breaks his unwanted gaze at the brunette he now knows is named Nat, probably Natalie, to address the nurse, she gives him a tight but cordial nod. Nothing really impresses April, not even Dr. William Halstead.

“No problem,” Natalie answers.

When she rises from the chair her swollen belly catches Will’s eyes. She carries pregnancy well, but still...hell no.

“Ooh, nevermind,” Will states in repulsion.

Natalie glares at him.

“Shucks, now I’ll have to tell my husband I was serious about those vows.”

April smiles, Natalie grabs her jacket from the back of the chair; a white coat, she’s a doctor too. Without meaning to he follows her with his eyes. Pregnant, married, and sarcastic.

“Dr. Halstead, Ms. Goodwin is waiting.”

April has slapped him out of his trance. He nods and finds the elevators which feel like they are in a different location, damn remodel, and heads up to Sharon Goodwin’s office. 

…

She’s quiet, too quiet. Only Sharon can do this. She is slowly surveying the documents, a raised eyebrow here, a quiet smack of the lips there. Will huffs every now and again, his entitled behavior bordering on disrespectful. 

“I have to run this contract past the board, normally I don’t have this many drafts Dr. Halstead.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he replies.

He's brushed off the last part. Sharon’s glasses have slid down to her nose as she takes another look over the changes Will and his lawyer have made to the contract. Will can ask for almost anything, his last name alone is the reason she’s even entertaining this nonsense. They both know it. But even with this information Will is still a little nervous, her reputation precedes her, she’s intimidating.

“That’s all Dr. Halstead, we’ll be in touch.”

He has all the cards yet she makes him feel powerless. But manners are manners and she rises when he does, they shake hands, her grip firmer than his. While walking out of her office, he gives himself a tour of the rest of the hospital. The little work he’s done here was in the small Cosmetics Division. There are only two OR’s, but the wing is tidy, and visually more appealing than the rest of the hospital. He’ll miss this little place; he was king here. He avoids the maternity wing and then segues to the “Nut Wing.” He’d never say that out loud, people are too sensitive these days. Now _this_ might actually impress his father. It’s newly renovated too, but way more money has gone into it than the ED. Will recognizes the name, an endowment. One of his father’s golfing buddies, it’s named after his wife.

Damn, his father. He could still make it to brunch, but he doesn’t want to. He isn’t ready to tell his father he is going to work at a second-rate hospital because he’s decided to stay in town, to maybe raise a baby he’s not even sure is his. But just as he begins to wallow in his woes he spots her; bright blonde hair and a cheery smile. She’s handing out pens with her company's name on it. She’s a rep.

“Can I get one of those?”

“You need a pen?” she asks.

“It may come in handy when I sign my contract,” he puts out his hand to shake hers, “Dr. Halstead.”

It’s an excuse to see if she recognizes the name. Her eyes quickly widen for a moment, she’s trying to play it cool.

“Zoey,” She answers with a big, beautiful smile.

“How would you like to get some lunch Zoey...maybe breakfast?”


	2. The Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A re-working of the Chicago Med that could've been; come with me as I re-introduce your favorite characters before some shitty test-audience got a hold of them and destroyed all that could've been, especially if the show was rated mature.

April always wakes up a few minutes before her alarm goes off. It’s annoying. But not as annoying as the request coming from Kelly.

“We talked about this,” she replies groggily.

“It’s just food.”

Her feet have already hit the floor. Sitting up always means not falling back asleep.

“Yeah and then its dinner, and movies, and dates then the meeting of the family, and-.”

“-Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Kelly pulls her back into bed and lays a kiss on her. The way he looks at her always looks as if it'll be the last. Not because he was leaving, but because she might.

“April Sexton the girl no one can get and even when they have her, they don’t.”

She hates when Kelly starts this shit. He was the one who pulled away when they were kids, who left her in that house...alone. 

“I need to get ready for work.” 

She starts the water and locks the bathroom door so he doesn’t try and slip in to initiate a quickie in the shower. She has time, but she isn’t in the mood. 

Kelly should be an easy relationship. They’ve been friends since high school. He’s been known to philander but for some reason he’s slowed down. They are _supposed_ to be causal. The rules are simple, no traditional dates, no family, and if they start sleeping with someone else they have to disclose it so the other knows if they want to continue. Of course things that happen organically aren't ceased. It's not like if April is watching a movie or television show when Kelly arrives she shuts it off, and often he'll order extra food and bring it to her. They don't even have sex every time he comes over. They didn't last night. The rules are easy and yet every few weeks he is trying his luck to amend their agreement. 

She pulls her curls back into a loose ponytail before fastening her pin. April Sexton, Charge Nurse, RN, LPN. There should be a doctorate title in front of her name. But this is good. She runs the ED, the largest trauma center in Chicago. Scheduling, stocking, inventory, liaison for transplants, implementation of all protocols, she can even turn patients away, ambulance riders too. It’s nothing to mince at. But she could’ve been the Head of Trauma, she should’ve been-. 

“-Stop it April,” she whispered to herself.

This road leads to nothing but anger, and bitterness. 

Kelly is in the living room lacing up his boots. April puts on her coat and looks for her tote. 

“Grab a bowl of cereal if you want, I think I got a few eggs left in there too.”

She offers to Kelly while pulling her trapped ponytail out of the neck of her coat.

“I thought you said no breakfast,” he sassed.

“You can eat, I’m just not eating with you.”

She leaned over the back of the couch and gave him a kiss before twirling towards the door. Kelly shook his head; as if there was more than ketchup and a dried up lime in the fridge. 

…

The drive to work in Chicago was almost equal to the traffic the ED saw. It truly was her least favorite part of the day, as was the hunt and find parking. 

_“If she were a doctor, the head, she would have an assigned spot- nope.”_

She thought she’d killed this kind of thinking before she left. Anyway hunt and find was fine, besides her Honda always got the compact-car-only spots Jerry the parking attendant kept a keen eye on. 

She loved the new remodel. It reflected what she deserved.The ED was at full attention when she waltzed in. Immediately after putting her things away she checks to make sure the flow of patients is meeting her expectations. The receptionist in the front looks ill.

“Denise?”

“I look as bad as I feel,” she says.

“I didn’t say you looked bad,” April says with a smile.

“Your face did.”

“Go home, we’ll figure it out.”

“But I need the time-.”

“-Denise, don’t be the reason why people die in hospitals while they try to recover from surgeries and immuno-compromising treatments, it isn’t up for debate.”

Denise knows better than to try her. She nods and grabs her belongings and saunters her sickly body towards the door.

“April, will you take a look at this?”

It’s Doris behind her. She doesn’t want to leave the desk unmanned, she spots Natalie leaned against a wall snacking on an apple. 

“Dr. Manning!”

She looks up. She was dazed out.

“Could you get one of the medical students to sit at the desk?”

“I can do it,” she answers, “It’ll give my ankles a rest.”

She waddles over and plops down as April walks with Doris to room 4 where a simple de-brieding has somehow stumped her.

“I thought that it was just road rash from the wreck but look at this bruising,” Doris points her finger toward the man’s leg.

April grabs a pair of protective lenses and a light. The smell almost knocks her back.

“You’re sure that this wound was opened by a bicycle wreck?” April asks.

“Yeah, it felt a little tingly before the wreck but I didn’t think anything of it,” he answers.

“Alright,” she began as she gave him a light tap, “Page Dr. Choi.”

“He isn’t in the ED today.”

“No, but he’s in the lab, get a culture and send it down there and have him take a look and page me when he does.”

Doris nods and April pushes her foot against the trash to dispose of her gloves before she dispenses some antibacterial soap in her hands. She finds a medical student, Henry, dear-sweet-never-going-to-make-it-through-the-program Henry to watch the desk. When she goes to relieve Natalie, Will is staring at Dr. Manning like a hunter. She’s paging Sharon’s assistant as she walks up. Nothing goes on here she doesn’t know about. She isn’t Will’s biggest fan. I mean Plastics? Is that even medicine? Not to mention he’s kind of a sleazebag, something Natalie is quickly getting acquainted with. She’s not the one either.

“Thanks for watching the desk Nat,” April says, “I’ll send Sharon’s secretary the message.”

“April,” Will says.

She has to be cordial, Sharon needs this, sadly the hospital needs this; him. She musters a tight nod as he stares at her with the corner of his eye. April blocks out his sexist nonsense, she just wants to get him out of here before an impending lawsuit ensues.

“Dr. Halstead, Ms. Goodwin is waiting.”

She gives him a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

She has a page from the ambulance coming in, a gunshot wound, shocking. Henry has settled his useless self in a chair as April gives him a quick run-down on how to check people in, and hand out visitor passes. She’ll have to check up on him again, this idiot would need instructions to tie his shoes.

The doors open; music to her ears. He’s riding on the top of the gurney. He’s handsome even while giving CPR.

“Male, 20, gunshot wound to the abdomen BP is 100/70 he’s tachycardic, crashed twice in the bus on the way here,” he says.

“BAGDHAD!” April calls out.

Her best trauma nurses are on it as well as the Troll, well Dr. Stohl, nicknamed that by the first years, years ago.

He jumps down and begins to shout out orders to the staff, Dr. Stohl turns a bit confused, offended really. April pulls at the handsome man’s arm.

“What are you doing? I need to be in there?!” 

Her left eyebrow shoots up, and he realizes his tone is wrong.

“Dr. Connor-.”

“-Bradshaw, you’ll find fresh scrubs in the room on your left, Dr. Stohl is Head of Trauma and will be taking the case.”

“He’s my patient-,” 

“-He needs surgery.”

Connor scoffs.

“Do the nurses around here normally make those kinds of decisions?” he asks.

No, he demands an answer. This is how it always is with new doctors. They think they have to piss all over the tree to mark it. Not this Brazilian Oak.

“Just the ones that are in charge of scheduling, but don’t worry, you won’t be seeing me, at least not during the day.” 

She isn’t even looking at him, she’s sending messages.

“April!” Stohl calls out.

“OR’s waiting for you!”

He gives a reassuring nod and a heads up. April strolls away from Connor. She has to check on Henry-do-nothing.

Choi is up a moment later with a bad attitude, she’d never quite understood why he picked emergency medicine when he was always down in pathology. But he’d become a human coupon of sorts for Sharon who loved it. 

Unlike Connor, Choi knows how to play ball, he may be annoyed but he doesn’t cross April. He isn’t stupid. It’s what she’s suspected and he confirms; a rare case of strep. He is immediately quarantined. This patient is not shutting down April’s ED. 

Finally April has a chance to check on Henry.

“How’s it going Henry?”

“Good.”

“Great!”

He might actually make it...in the world of reception. April begins heading back to the ED.

“Oh yeah, a guy stopped in for you. I told him you were in the back, did he find you?”

“-Uh...no what guy?”

“Uh he was-uh,” Henry has his hand waving around his face, “ Like you-um African-American..”

“-Black?”

“Yes!”

“Well is his name in the visitor’s log?”

Henry’s eyes went wide.

“I forgot.”

There went his career in reception and hospitality. April took a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

“Hey sis.”

The superstitious would say April conjured him up because when she opens her eyes; in front of her stands her baby brother.

“Noah!” 

He grabs her and pulls her in for a hug, it takes her a moment to hug him back. What is he doing here? She probably shouldn’t leave Henry, he’s proven incompetent, but she needs to find out what is going on with her brother; privately.

“Is it mom? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah she’s good.”

“Okay...what are you doing here Noah?”

Shock flies over his eyes but quickly turns to offense.

“Wow-damn, I thought I would tell you that I start here as an intern next week.”

“An intern of what?”

“Medical school, I’m a fourth year.”

He sounds hurt. She isn’t trying to make him feel like this.

“You’re training to become a doctor?”

“I thought you’d be happier for me.”

She’s in deep thought, scrolling through her mind trying to figure out how she missed this. Did Stohl forget to CC her on the email? No, that email isn’t supposed to come for another week.

“April.”

“-Sorry, I’m really busy right now Noah, I’ll call you.”

“You don’t even have my number.”

She doesn’t. They haven’t spoken in years. She hasn’t spoken to any of her family in years. Her mom sends a card on her birthday, she sends nothing back. She looks away shamefully.

“I’ll get it.”

He looks disappointed, hurt. 

“Whatever, I’ll see you around _sis_.”

She throws dagger eyes at Henry and heads back to work.

…

The ride home is just as cumbersome. The 5 o’clock rush, the dinner crowd is starting too as she races home. She showers almost immediately. She’s thinking pajamas and sleeping until her phone vibrates. It’s Kelly.

_“Hey...yeah...yeah...that’s fine...I’ll be here.”_

He’s coming over. She wouldn't mind having someone to hold her tonight. To make her feel safe. She can do that. It’s still following the rules.


	3. Call Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A re-working of the Chicago Med that could've been; come with me as I re-introduce your favorite characters before some shitty test-audience got a hold of them and destroyed all that could've been, especially if the show was rated mature.

"Do you think it might be time to talk to your mom?"

Natalie lets out a huff. 

"You know when I'm laying down on this couch it's not an actual session right?"

She has her feet up on the ridiculously comfortable leather sofa in Sarah's office. Most leather couches suck, when they aren't immediately freezing, they get too hot, they make weird noises when you sit on them, or you find yourself sliding off them like they've been dipped in Teflon. But not Dr. Reese's couch. The leather is worn and soft. Natalie likes to think that all kinds of great minds hung out on this couch. It was in an office lounge, a boardroom, and some smaller private offices before Sarah inherited it. 

"Am I still the only person who knows?" Sarah asks.

Natalie looks away before she answers. 

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'm not going to say anything but, I have to ask."

Normally Sarah's voice rings with coolness, confidence, but this is delicate territory. 

"Do you still have episodes of extreme disassociation?"

...

It's a haze most days. Exhaustion, work, endless labs, emergencies of nothing, mountains that turn to molehills. The days that run together, it's a haze. Natalie’s been zoned out for at least a minute. Her mother's called again, she’s been 

bombarding her with text messages, voicemails, and facetime. She can’t blame her. Natalie is due in six weeks and she wants to plan when she can come into town. She knows Natalie is prepared but she’s questioning her mental state, and it’s been pissing Natalie off.

_ “Honey-Lilly, call me back, its mom, you’re starting to worry me.” _

Her mom is the only person who even calls her that. A list of a million nicknames she goes by. Lil, Nat, Natalie, LilaNat. She prefers Natalie. She meant to get her white coat printed with it but they based it off what was on her official transcripts. Lilly, her given name, she was called that until age 4 when her older cousin started saying she was obnoxious, like a Nat. Well that was one story. One of the reasons.

She’s zoned out because she’s had to defer her last two patients to other doctors because of her pregnancy. If just some sick kid could come in then it would make the day feel less like a waste. A fucked up thought but hey, you don’t become a doctor to treat healthy people. Just then she hears her name. It’s April. When she can focus again she’s off her feet and plopped into a chair again. She tries not to zone out anymore. If she keeps it up people will start asking questions; the usual.

_ “How are you?” “Is everything alright?” “Are you okay?” _

Natalie wished those things mattered. They don’t. Sitting at the desk gave her the power to ask a total stranger a question which will probably lead to more intrusive ones. Finally!

“Can I help you?” 

Natalie smells his cologne first. Preggars nose. It takes him a second to answer. It’s been a while since someone has looked at her like that. But it's akin to a colorful masterpiece when all she can see is black and white.

“I have a 9:00 with the Chief Administrator, Sharon Goodwin.” He says,

_ “Hmm for what?” _

“But maybe after we can get some lunch-or breakfast?”

_ “Boo.” _

April to the rescue. Natalie likes April. She just gets it, and she doesn’t ask too many questions, probably because she doesn’t want them reciprocated. When she arises the coquettish look in his eyes drains. So much for the masterpiece. If Natalie could, she’d flip him off, but stupid professionalism. Waddling back to the ED comes with the realization that she still has zero patients, is it too much for a baby to get pneumonia, she’d even take a scraped knee to not feel the guilt of not returning her mother’s phone calls.

So she zones out for a few more minutes, what does Sarah call this? Disassociation. The mind’s need to be anywhere but here, it'd be sweet if she was thinking about playing with her baby or throwing the perfect stitches but she can’t control it. Most of the time she doesn’t realize it’s happening. Most of the time she-

…

-Shit. Her fingers know everything by heart. She remembers this being a fun song to play. The note she plays on her A string is out of tune for a moment when she realizes she’s on the roof. It’s evening. She’s playing with the hospital’s jam group. How long has she been here? She smiles an embarrassed grin at the out of tune moment, like a momentary slip up instead of a worrying issue. Did she get anymore patients? How long have they been at it? The song comes to an end and Natalie thanks everyone while they beg her to stay. She says she’s tired, she’s 7.5 months pregnant so they get it. She packs up her violin. She has to focus on the ride home, no cutting out when she’s driving that’s-

-Fuck. She’s home, she comes to when she parks her car. Dammit. She lets out a shivered exhale before ascending her stairs.

She flicks the light on, there’s a note on the side table. 

**_Nat, be home later,_ **

**_Love Jeff._ **

Shocking, he’s never home anymore. She was supposed to be the one who wasn’t around much. What's the point of being an emergency physician if you can't shuttle away at all hours to save the day leaving your spouse feeling ever so bittersweet at your heroics? Jeff always got to be the hero, being a ranger allowed him that, when would it be her turn? There’s an empty bottle of wine on the counter next to their stemless wine glass set. He  _ was _ home. She wonders how long?Did he drink this bottle...and was he alone? Nothing looks out of sorts, she'd noticed. Their home is gorgeous, there is no way in hell anyone has a more comfortable couch than the Mannings. You want a modern farmhouse aesthetic in a two-flat? They got it. You want a woodland animal nursery with adorable but not cutesy touches that make you feel like their baby will be cooler than yours? An Alexa that controls the temperature, the lighting, the music, through the beautifully wired sound system throughout the house? Teak floors? A rain forest shower head with an eco water collection port? Marble countertops and glistening white subway tile? Yup, they got it. There’s no way you could come in this house and not feel like you’ve walked into someone’s Pinterest board come to life. It even smells amazing. A nutty-granola smell with a hint of fresh linen, it was Pier One the fragrance in a bottle spread throughout the house. 

She brings her phone upstairs with her. She has to call her mother back. She hits the call button. It’s anyone’s guess if her mother will pick up. Portland is hours behind them. It rings and rings and rings. Finally, she gets her voicemail.

“Mom it’s me, don’t call me back later I’ll be asleep.”

She looks to the empty spot next to her. It’s not that late. It’s only 8:30. She’s asleep before she can really get pissed about it. Preggars energy.

Three hours later her mom sends a text message, it counts, it isn't a phone call. It reads.

"Call me."


	4. It's An Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A re-working of the Chicago Med that could've been; come with me as I re-introduce your favorite characters before some shitty test-audience got a hold of them and destroyed all that could've been, especially if the show was rated mature.

You can’t even call what he has a hangover. In order to have a hangover one needs to be getting over the bender from the night before, but unfortunately that can’t happen because he’s still drunk and planning to drink more. 

Being perpetually drunk is an art. No, it is. When was the last time you drank dark liquor straight, without burning a hole in your stomach, only to ask for more? Exactly, have some respect for the Head of Psychiatry. 

It’s what Daniel tells himself before he loosens his tie because it’s too tight and doesn’t allow for the art- oh yes the art.

First step of this drunken masterpiece is to go to bed late. Yes, if you get too much sleep then the headache, dry mouth, anxiousness, nausea, etc. all show up. So go to bed later than you would and wake up earlier than you should. You will still be drunk, your eyes will be glossy and your body will be mad but it’s fine because you run through your morning like it’s the same. Shower, brush your teeth, careful with the tongue, cause gagging while nauseous, you get it. Then onto breakfast. This part is important. Your body is mostly likely screaming for potassium, protein, and sugar. So eggs, steak, bananas, all perfect, then coffee to shock the system and the second cup better have some of the sweet stuff you had too much of. Hell a mimosa or two wouldn't hurt either. Also, this is the most important step. Find a way to catch a nap. At least an hour, two is best and when you awake more of the good stuff. Perpetual drunkenness. See; art.

It’s what Daniel is pouring in his “coffee” mug after a two hour nap on his couch in his office. He can hear the door knob turn, there are exactly two other people who can get into his office, maintenance and Sarah.

“Dr. Charles?”

Her voice is velvet. It’s what he loves to hear.

“Hey kiddo,” he groans as he sits up straight.

“So...I already did the intake for your patients this morning but you’re going to have to meet them...in person.”

Sarah is holding out a piece of gum, she means well but gum fucks up the masterpiece, which is why Daniel keeps candy, butterscotch, on his coffee table. You see the flavor, the smell, keeps people confused.

He waves away her rookie gesture and leans toward the coffee table to grab his ace in the hole. However the gesture does remind him that she knows, he smells.

“Yes, I know. I’m going to pop by the bathroom and then I’ll be there.”

Sarah’s eyes scour the “art”, such a skeptic, this isn’t even her medium.

When he stands a paper falls from his backside. He’s busy grabbing his jacket. She picks it up and smooths the crinkles to read it.

“Dr. Charles, this paper says you have court in an hour.”

Fuck, okay well I said being drunk full time is an art not a healthy or wise art. 

“Wha-dammit,” he hisses under his breath.

He’s pulling for his phone in his pocket, he has to call his attorney; Marcus Katz. 

“Can we get a cont-...no...no...it’s fine I’m coming.”

Sarah has mastered the art of looking both worried and slightly judgemental. She knows what comes next.

“Sar-,”

“-Yeah I got it.”

Alcoholics are always apologizing. Or they would be if they were sorry.

Daniel is looking for his briefcase. His lawyer should have most of what they need but it never hurts to have copies of the reason he should at least get a minimum of  _ joint  _ custody of his daughter.

..

This bitch, god didn’t they love each other once? And now she is either Mrs. Charles or the Plaintiff, sure as hell isn’t the defendant.

“Do we have the report from the mediation interviews?”

“No your honor, the Plaintiff has asked to reschedule,  _ again _ .”

Deep down Daniel both hates and absolutely loves when Katz calls her “The Plaintiff” because it’s not the woman he married. But the psychiatrist in him knows it’s dehumanizing.

“This is the second rescheduling Mrs. Charles, if you could keep the appointment we could move on.”

“Your honor Mrs. Charles is now a single working parent and would have to ask off from very new employment, but she has spoken to her supervisor and the next appointment should be able to work.”

Her lawyer's voice is so fucking whiny. 

Daniel is confused...what new appointment?

“We were not made aware of a new appointment?”

Katz has spoken up, and thank god because Daniel couldn’t handle another surprise.

“We sent over documents today.”

Whiny voice. She does admit that this was just done. Katz says they will have to get back to them, Daniel has appointments but Sarah could probably cover. But why should he? “The Plaintiff” hasn’t made any of this easy. No matter what, the answer is no. He knows paying for his attorney and ultimately hers is eating into Anna’s college fund and it’s weakened his retirement, but she has to pay too.

“I-I uh can’t make that time.”

Daniel says casually as he pops another butterscotch in his mouth. Katz raises an eyebrow with a wry smile. Petty.

They are adjourned. It’s almost 2:30. Daniel and “The Plaintiff” glare at each other before he walks out. He grabs a cab and heads to the bar. There’s a great place that does roasted ham on rye with the peakest sauerkraut and-, ah you’re too young you wouldn’t understand. It goes well with a bourbon, on the rocks. He finishes his drink and heads back to the hospital. His beeper goes off almost immediately. He has a meeting with the rest of the heads of the hospital, Sharon too. These two were closer before his divorce. 

Even closer when he was married to his first wife. When he and Caroline got a divorce it changed their core group. He rarely sees Burt, and only Sharon at work. 

He slips in the back. This meeting is less formal, some people are sitting, some aren’t. 

“I need at least three ideas from each department, one to cut costs, at least one for a federal grant, and one you think I will reject,” she orders.

There are murmurs in the room.

“I hope those are ideas I hear you mumbling, you all have a week.”

Everyone begins clearing out of the room, murmuring, the bitching continues as they leave the large briefing room. Daniel remains.

“What’s going on with the assignment?”

“Nice of you to join us Dan.”

“I had court Ronnie.”

Ronnie and Dan, it's almost coded at this point. If she calls him Dan then it doesn't matter what the subject is, they are talking as friends, and when he answers Ronnie that's the confirmation. Thirty plus years of friendship and you can have this too. 

“I bet,” Sharon answers with a warm smile.

No they don’t hang out like they used to, but they are still friends. Daniel’s smile mirrors hers, she still hasn’t answered the question of why the need for new ideas and funding.

“How is the custody battle going Dan?”

He rolls his eyes and she smirks again before her smile settles to a frown. A third marriage, and Sharon has seen it all with him, but this Daniel is  _ new _ . 

“What-what’s that?” He looks confused.

“Maybe it’s time to ease off the butterscotch candies...huh Dan.”

There’s a pause, a quietness. After all perpetual drunkenness is an art and art after all is made to be seen.


	5. Secrets and Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A re-working of the Chicago Med that could've been; come with me as I re-introduce your favorite characters before some shitty test-audience got a hold of them and destroyed all that could've been, especially if the show was rated mature.

It is the easiest thing to understand as a psychiatrist. Everything a patient tells you is completely confidential. Unless it appears that they are going to harm themselves or others. It’s not rocket science. But these people around here are making her job hell. Testing the simplicity of it all. Sarah is sixty percent sure that Natalie is a danger to herself, Daniel is a walking brewery. The mess she’s heard outside Sharon’s office- we don’t have the time to tell you more of the secrets and synopsis and hypothesis that Sarah has there. The ED? Whew. There are more issues than a TV Guide magazine down there, and it’s not the patients. That’s the thing. 

They tell you not to shrink your friends and colleagues but it’s hard not to. They don’t tell other doctors to hang their white coats up when they are out. 

No, you gotta pay attention, that’s what makes Daniel so good. He could always see the big picture, Sarah can see it too. 

She knows how long it’s been since Jeff was home, almost how long it’s been since Daniel began drinking twenty-five eight. Sarah knows the truth of their situation but Natalie hasn’t given Sarah enough to turn her in. Sarah only _suspects_ that there’s more. As for Daniel she’s trying to wait it out.

"Do you still have episodes of extreme disassociation?"

Natalie’s eyes zero in as she looks to Sarah.

“No.”

Liar. Sarah nods and helps Natalie sit up so she can stand and head back to work. 

Like I said, issues. But there’s only so much she can do and less when the patient or in this case the doctor doesn’t want to be honest about their situation. And if you think that a closer , more intimate relationship would help, well Sarah has news for you.

“C’mon Reese, it’ll be quick,” Ethan whines.

“That’s not exactly the sexy -talk you think it is.”

Ever since the night they both worked a late shift and screwed on her couch Ethan has been pushing his luck to have it happen again. He was supposed to be in the lab but took a restroom break, passed Natalie on her way up to the ED and veered to Sarah’s office. It’s the tight skirts, he whines, as he pushes hers up and grinds his hips against her.

Sarah’s eyes close as she exhales and does her best to find her willpower. Fucking at work is so unprofessional and it could get them both fired. But maybe...one last time. She hasn’t even verbally said yes and her body has betrayed her, melting into him as he pulls her panties down and she steps out of them. The beeping breaks it up. 

“E, that’s _your_ pager,” she exhales.

He lets out a frustrated huff and looks down.

“Dammit, how’d she even find me? I’m not even working in the ED today!”

Sarah turns and wraps her arms behind his neck.

“Go.”

He gives her a kiss and a devilish nod as he pockets her panties. He’ll be back but there will be no time. Sarah has to do rounds for herself and she knows she’ll have to do Daniel’s too. His name is highlighted on the messaging system which means he’s drunk...again. Sarah’s gotten good at this. Double duty, she's hyper-organized too so that helps. But at times it grates. She is making a resident’s salary and doing the job of three doctors. Cause lets face it all the doctor’s are doing the job of at least two, so I guess that means really she’s doing four. 

She’s finished jotting down the last of her intake notes, and scripts before she tip-toes to Daniel’s office. The light is off but she knows he’s in there, attempting to sleep it off.

She always taps on the door lightly, before letting herself in.

“Dr. Charles.”

She can smell him before she sees him. She’s not sure why it’s disappointing, it’s expected.

“Hey Kiddo.”

His performative patriarchal role. Because at this point, what’s the point? Is this what he really wants her to think a father should be? Even a make-shift one? The irony here is that he’s in this situation because of his custody fight, a descent into depression mediated by alcohol. 

See, it’s hard to turn off. 

He’s a tidy mess pretending to be an overworked fuddy-duddy. Those butterscotches are better than her gum, but seriously? Papers stuck to his ass, a mess, and now she has to go down to the ED and handle three of his patients. He’s gone almost as quickly as he wakes up and Sarah is alone in his office. She should hurry down to the ED and get a jump start on the extra patients she’s just inherited, but she’s stalling, staring at the photos in his office. A life well lived, and crumbling before him. Standing there she realizes that this could easily be her too. 

She’d have it all one day and then nothing the next. It’s this kind of thinking that’s given her compassion for her patients. Sarah lingers longer at the picture of Daniel with Anna and Robin. 

It’s old, Anna is only a few months old and Robin is clearly in her late teens or maybe early twenties. It’s the shirt Robin’s wearing that’s cause for pause. “Infect This” it says. Ethan has the same one. She breaks away and is down the hall to one of her first patients. Still pushing off the ED.

A borderline personality disorder with explosive outbursts that has Sarah questioning the diagnosis. Daniel made it a month ago. Everything Daniel has done has Sarah questioning, well, everything.

“Melinda, your nurse says you haven't eaten in three days.”

Her patient just sits on her bed curled up, her face tight and angry. The tray of food next to her has developed that lackluster look of too much idle oxygen. Sarah moves closer and sits down in the chair next to the tray.

“Melinda, I know you hate it here, but if you want to lift the psychiatric hold you have to eat.”

The warmth in her brown eyes does nothing for Melinda.

“At least drink something.”

Finally Melinda sits up and turns, her face finally warms as she grabs the plastic cup of orange juice. Hope filled Sarah’s eyes as Melinda brought the cup to her lips and began filling her mouth. She places the empty cup down, faces Sarah and spits the juice on her. A sly smile spreads across Melinda’s face before she resumes her spot back on the bed. Sarah let out a sigh.

“I’m not the enemy here Melinda,” Sarah announced as she stood up.

Her blouse and skirt are soaked with orange juice. As she leaves her room Melinda’s nurse eyes her.

“I told you.”

“I’m going to go change but I’m coming back,” Sarah says definitely.

The nurse just shook her head in defeat. 

Ever since beginning her psychiatric residency Sarah hadn’t worn a pair of scrubs but now she had no choice. The scrub closet was more of a walk in, not primpy, utilitarian, but it housed all the generic nameless scrubs anyone would ever need, and apparently for a very handsome man whose tattoo she caught a quick glimpse of before he pulled his scrub shirt over his head. She knew that tattoo. Shit.

“Connor?”

Her confirmation came when he turned around.

“Well hello Princess.”

She hated the nickname then and she hates it still.

“No-,” she starts shaking her head.

He laughs, it makes his blue eyes shine.

“-Oh yeah,” he answers.

Sarah rolls her eyes and grabs a pair of scrubs before she turns.

“No, Princess, please, keep the room.”

She remembers that Ethan has her panties somewhere on him and she has to be as far away as possible from this as she can. She doesn’t say anything before she pulls the door close. As if she needed more shit in her life. She goes to the bathroom to dry her skin off before heading to her office and changing into scrubs. She’s down to just her bra when he says;

“You are a sight to behold.”

She has to smile again.

“How’d you get away?”

“I had to run a sample downstairs and I guess I got lost,” Ethan answered with a dimpled grin.

Those dimples are the end for her. They are the end for you too, don’t lie. It’s even easier than earlier. He kept to his promise, quickly pounding against her backside, no real attempt at actual love-making, just a quickie. She feels how heavy his breath is in her curls, he’s done. 

“Tonight, I’ll make up for that,” he sighs with a light laugh.

He’s still holding onto her. Sarah smiles.

“Oh yeah? We still on for dinner tonight?”

“About that, do you mind if I ask someone to join us, just for dinner of course.”

There it is. Ethan, poking fun to mask his insecurity at her bisexuality. Sarah rolls her eyes.

“That’s fine, who’s the mystery guest?”

“A good friend from back in the day, you’ll love him.”

“Okay.”

“Awesome,” he began while zipping up his pants and smoothing his hair back, “I’ll tell Connor to meet us at 7:30 tonight.”

Ethan gave Sarah a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, before he could see the look on her face.

Everyone in this hospital has secrets, issues, and now, so does Sarah.


End file.
